


a wave out on the ocean could never move that way

by sdieadler



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Out of Character, Period-Typical Homophobia, also long haired!arthur bc i said so, i guess, im still in denial about arthurs death, kind of a happy ending???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 20:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18395351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdieadler/pseuds/sdieadler
Summary: Arthur, a haunted man of remarkable achievement, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the azure water with his mournful turquoise windows to his soul.





	a wave out on the ocean could never move that way

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic so please go easy on me oof. also english in not my first langueage (or even my second) so please let me know if there are any spelling mistakes.
> 
> (title is from poetry in motion by jonny tillotson)

There was a man standing at the water's edge. 

Arthur, a haunted man of remarkable achievement, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the azure water with his mournful turquoise windows to his soul. His swarthy hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as he tried to deny the stirrings in his heart as he clacked the heels of his copper boots together. He wore an alabaster crisp button-down shirt and a pair of loose onyx jeans. His cocoa locks brushed against his shoulders, complementing his agonized alabaster, tinted with light brown, visage. A mahogany moustache brushed against his lip. A cinnamon growth of hair adorned his chin. A prominent scar stood out on his healthily colour-touched platinum skin. He stood, awaiting his love. 

It must have been fate in a mortal form that brought them together. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on him that they were meant to be. From then on, Arthur was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. Charles also behaved strangely, one-moment adoring, scathing the next. That was how it was to this very day. 

Arthur's cobalt crystals spotted Charles further down on the beach, closer to the roaring sea. His lovely hair was woven into an inky braid. His pools were turned toward the ocean, hidden from Arthur's sight, but he knew and loved their empty brunet hue. He was dressed in that exotic fashion in which he was most comfortable. His copper body rippled with muscle. A prominent scar stood out on his coffee skin. As Arthur drew nearer, he caught a note of Charles's familiar scent, a mixture of earthiness and sourness that was uniquely his. His spheres softened. It always reminded him of the time they shared. "Charles," he called, walking towards him. 

He glanced back at Arthur before again returning his amber gaze to the water. "Arthur," he whispered. 

Arthur shrugged and said only, "Let's go." They began their leisurely walk along the ocean's edge. 

Neither of them spoke for some time. It wasn't uncommon for them -- they'd exchange poker-faced glances and walk in silence for hours, until finally, they somehow touched, and overwhelmed by pain and loneliness they would turn to each other. It was no different this time. They had tracked halfway down the shore, down to where a cliff rose to block their progress, before Charles turned to Arthur and whispered, "I waited a long time for today. I... I missed you a lot." Arthur didn't say anything. "It's like I told you before. You're all I have...." 

Charles sought out one of Arthur's hands with his, but Arthur drew away. "Just be quiet." With a baleful glance, Charles let his hand drop. "Every time. Cry, cry, cry. That's all you do." 

Stricken, Charles turned away and began to weep. 

 

Each sob was a blow against Arthur's will and heart. At last, he took a deep breath and dictated, "Stop. ... Please. You... you have no idea what effect you have on me." 

"Why are you like this to me?" Charles whispered. "I... I don't understand. I need you, Arthur. I need you like I need air. I'd do anything for you, but you still treat me this way...." Charles folded his arms across his chest and took a shuddering breath. "Do you hate me, Arthur?" 

"What if I did?" he mused. 

"I would fall apart," Charles whispered. "I would have no reason to be." He waited for some kind of reassurance that it wasn't true, that it would never be, but it didn't come. He bowed his head. He should've known better than to expect such a display from Arthur. 

Instead, he took a few steps toward the cliff and arced his head to gaze up its height. "If I could be as open as you," he pondered, "I would consider myself lucky." 

"Please let me in," Charles wept. "Please. Together we might be able to bear this cruel world." 

Arthur was never good enough. Charles was without a mother or father. Maybe Charles had a point, he thought. Arthur approached him and brushed a finger below his swarthy spheres. "Perhaps... that might be..." he mused before stepping away again. Charles blinked, and wet his cheeks again with tears as Arthur walked away -- and then hurriedly followed, for Charles had nothing else in the world. 

 

After a few moments, they found themselves walking down the beach again. Endlessly, Arthur was haunted by his principles, until lately held dear, -- but he resolved to battle it alone, as he had all his life. Charles could not know. No one could. It was his burden alone to bear. 

All the same, Charles seemed to notice. He looked at Arthur cautiously for a moment before murmuring, "Arthur? Is... something wrong?" 

"Charles... it's..." 

And at that moment everything came together, all of the magic and the hurt that had been building that day, and he locked his orbs with his and whispered, "You can tell me." 

It was like a floodgate burst, or some barrier of fear had been struck down. Arthur shook his head and everything came out at once. "It's just... this isn't right, Charles. I love you... truly, I do. But I shouldn't be with someone like this. It's, it's not what I was taught... -- no. What I believe. I don't mean to hurt you. I know it burns. It burns, for me too. That's... that's why I won't leave you. But still, I feel such guilt...." 

Charles listened silently and solemnly. At last, when all the words had left Arthur and he was at a loss for words, Charles reached out to him and took a deep breath to whisper back, "Arthur... I... I don't know what it's like, to live with your principles, until lately held dear,... but... I'm sorry, Arthur. I wish... I wish I could help." Arthur's eyes began to burn, and he abruptly pulled Charles into a fierce embrace. Charles's crystals widened at first, but then he too felt overwhelmed by emotion and succumbed to the warmth of Arthur's touch. 

"You," Arthur whispered, his breath hot on Charles's ear. "As long as you're here, I... I can make it." 

"Arthur..." Charles laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder, pushing him lightly so that they parted enough to look each other in the eye. "The truth is, I... feel the same way about you." 

Arthur tilted his head forward, pressing their foreheads together, and whispered, "What is it, Charles? Have you... been in pain, too?" 

"Arthur, it's..." Charles took a shuddering breath and whispered, "It's... it's my parents. My mother, my father... sometimes I can't believe they're gone. It's not just that they're dead, but when it happened, it... changed so much. Sometimes I wonder about what it'd be like if it all went back... I don't even know how I would feel about that. It just... it hurts, Arthur, thinking about it. It just hurts." 

Arthur placed his hands on Charles's cheeks, stroking his cheekbone as he soothed, "I... Charles, that's... that's something I've felt too. My parents' death... sometimes, sometimes I remember it again, and it hurts... just like that. ...You're not alone, Charles." Arthur brushed his fingertips against Charles's arm. They held each other as tears trickled down cheeks and dripped onto the shifting sands to be carried away into the sea. Their pain dissipated into a mist swept out by the ocean breeze and toward the setting sun, where dark clouds began to loom into sight.


End file.
